


As Within So Without

by LighteningLillies



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Biblical References, Cults, Death, F/M, Gates of Hell, Multi, Murder, Mystery, Scarification, alchemist theories, test of faith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 08:25:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2262723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LighteningLillies/pseuds/LighteningLillies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A string of Cult-Like Deaths appear all over London. When Molly and Mary become targets, Sherlock and John do everything in their powers to protect them. Even if its from forces unknown to them and not of this mortal earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dead Walk

Molly Hooper looked over the new batch of bodies. This was going to be a long Friday, she could already tell. Three women and two men. All were pulled from a collapsed manhole in the middle of London. Strange. The bodies where of local missing Uni students, but the men looked much  
older then a man in University should. She remembered looking like some crazy cat lady in her days at Uni and couldn't help but feel sorry for the men whom died looking like fifty year old men. Perhaps the funeral home could fix them up, but now it was time to do her job and solve the puzzle of their deaths. Slapping on a pair of gloves she began set up for the post modem.  
She turned on her recorder and began making details of the date and time. It was a habit of her to record all of her Post Modem then transcript the notes ontot he files that way she didnt get a pen and paper dirty during the messy parts. When she pulled off the sheet Molly remained  
speechless. She hadn't seen a case this strange in a long time so she began relaying her notes.:

"First Male, Mr. Jacob Waltons, Age 26. A Marking, deep cuts made from a jagged blade, in the shape of alpha.  
Markings start at Right Nipple, peaks at adam's apple, then ends at Left Nipple. Cuts where not cause of death.  
Bruises across the jaw line and nose hint a fight. Nose broken. Three teeth missing. Signs of healing means they  
had a chance to heal before time of death. Two or three days max. Many cuts among the arms and legs. Not cause of   
death. Opening Chest..."

Stripping the gloves off she tossed them into the medical waste basket. Both men the same...now on to the ladies. Such young and beautiful girls. What a shame all three died.

"First Female, Miss Leah Robinson, Age 23. A marketing similar to Mr. Jacob Waltons and Auguste Hunter. The marking  
starts Left Nipple and dips to Navel then back up to Right Nipple. Cut with smooth small blade. A scalpel? Miss Robinson   
has soft tissue damage near and around vagina. Rape? Ripped skin...similar to child birth. No visible signs of pregnancy.  
Opening Chest...."

Molly stood back and looked at the bodies she completed the post modems on. She tried to see this medically and redirect  
her thoughts but nothing was coming to mind. All throughout Medical school she was taught to keep an open mind to accept any and all possibilities. How was she to accept a death that had o reason or fact to it? What she saw was not medically possible. She pushed the bodies back   
to wash them off before returning them to the freezer.Her newest assistant, Charles, left on break and would not be back for another  
fifteen minutes and Molly was not going to wait around for him to keep up the mess. Especially since he was new and cleaning out afterwards would take him at very least an hour total. So being the senior pathologist and taking the responsibilities she started the clean up first by taking the recorder and pocketing the item.  
Molly's thoughts returned to the people whom laid in the very room with her. Jacob Waltons, Leah Robinson,  
Rachel Mac Comby, Rebecca Lotts, and Auguste Hunter. The men both died of cardiac arrest, both in excellent health  
and no heart troubles carried in the family, it remain a mystery why just simply their heart just stopped.  
But the women... By the blood-lost and the tissue damage she would have normally said Child Birth, but no signs of   
pregnancy at least a full term pregnancy were visible.  
One thing was for certain all were dead upon's the mines collapsed.

Molly grabbed the tools and threw them into the stabilizer. They had to be cleaned and then packaged again. When she turned a metal pan was struck across her head. The tools she carried spread over the floor clicking with a metallic clap.  
Molly fell backwards smacking the back of her head against an exam table. She let out a sharp yelp and a soft moan but could manage a scream to alert someone. A sense of blackness swam towards but not before she saw her attacker. Her eyes widen and tried to focus in again on the face of the man but she was unable to as she passed out on the marble.

 

Police had the morgue yellow taped before Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Waston showed up. An EMT had Molly up on a counter   
patching up a slash she had above her right eye. She caught Sherlock's eye and assured the EMT she was fine, and as the EMT left   
Sherlock swooped in and took his place. Carefully he explained her face and hooked her chin within his finger. He was gently and his look upon her tender and filled with affection. They seemed to shared the gaze and somehow she put him to ease with just a simple nod of her aching head. He smirked softly and then direction a glare at John whom was staring like an amazed ape. John quickly adjusted himself and composure was back.  
snitched  
"That's what we asked her and she refuses to tell us until you got here." Lestrade stepped up and handed Molly a   
bag of ice for her head giving her a sympathetic look. How many time had Lestrade been knocked out cold thanks to a perpetrator? Too many she guessed and took the bag compellingly. "Even if I assured her no harm would come to her."  
"Please Lestrade you can barely protect yourself." Sherlock waved his hand as though dismissing him but Greg didn't budge  
an inch.   
"Greg, its not that I doubt your ability to protect me or others......its just....well I dont want to sound like a looney." Molly put the ice on the back  
of her head and John's Doctor nature and insist that he take a look a the knot on the back of her head. She was sure she had a concussion but she refused to be seen until she had a chance to see Sherlock.  
"A looney...? Molly we are your friends. Even if we weren't you're highly respected and a very well known pathologist  
I highly doubt we...or anyone else for that matter... could possibly think you are crazy." John voice his opinion while spreading the locks of her lovely blood stained hair away from her head to exam the goose egg peaking on her head.  
Staring at Sherlock she looked as though she was awaiting his approval, and he lowered her brows. Never had she looked at him  
like that. It was a look he had seen before but not from her eyes. That look like she was seeking someone who would believe her. Why wouldn't she think he would not trust her word. it was Molly Hooper for christ shake! She could tell anyone the sky was on fire and with a bat of her sweet eyes anyone would believe it. So Whatever it was she was terrified on sharing, she was worried he would not be the only one to doubt her. It was a feeling he was guilty of feeling as a young teen when testifying the truth but non believed him. That was the start of a hard and war filled terror between himself and all other whom thought him a freak. But Molly. His Molly.....Yes his Molly. How long had he been in a relationship the Pathologist now? Four months now? Had it really been that long.....they remain quite and private with it all. Other than Mary and John Waston , and of course Ms. Hudson knowing they both kept it to them selves. But now his Molly needed him and he didnt care who saw him protect and defend what was his. He be damned if he didnt trust every word that uttered out of her lips. He reached out unknowingly and held her folded hands.  
His thumb ran over her soft tops reassuring her.  
Molly swallowed and gathered her courage.  
"It was him..."  
All seemed to stopped and look in her direction. She of course pointed to the one Person no one, not even Sherlock Holmes  
would suspect.  
Molly was pointing over to the gurney with Jacob Walton's body on it.   
"...Mr. Waltons. Still think I am not Looney?"

 

"Molly how could a dead-man smack you across the head and knock you out cold?" Greg chuckled and reached out and felt her head for a   
fever. "I wonder did you hit your head too hard."  
"Possibly. But I Know Who Attacked Me. It was the same face...I didnt see things. I know what I saw." Molly hopped off the table and   
swayed a bit. This was not helping her case any she was sure. Sherlock reached out and steadied her. She smiled in thanks but then continued to defend herself against the doubters.  
Sherlock then moved over looking over Jacob Walton's body and the fantastic job Molly had preformed on him. She was really an amazing Pathologist. Grabbing the file, he noticed the report was not finish. Obviously Molly had not had the time to complete it before being knocked out by her "ghost attacker". Bastard how dare he attack Molly. The thought boiled his blood and the fact the glash above her eyes would leave a pink scar in three months or so it would fade but until then......wait...focus ....  
"What was Mr. Walton's cause of death?" He asked noting the deep cuts on his chest.  
"Heart attack. But no signs of heart issues in the family. The cause unknown. No drugs in his system. Nothing. He is clean so is Auguste.  
Nothing is different between the two men minus Auguste has been dead the longest. Did you notice the aging between them both? They looked ten years their senior...."  
Sherlock nodded as though processing the new information.  
", But there is more Sherlock. The Ladies. All of them died of Child Birth Compilations. But no Signs of pregnancy. I am baffled.Medically and..."  
She had John's and Lestrade's attention fully but Sherlock was still downloading the information.  
"...Something bad happen to these kids."

An dead silence fell over them and the questions swam there their looks but no one dared speak them. How was it possible? What Happen to them? Who did it?  
And why?


	2. The first law of the universe

How dare they?! They doubted her! She had made that hospital tons and buckets of money. Helped sloved cases for Scotland Yard for years. And then in the moment where she was knocked down they doubted her?! Her?! When the board of directors summond her and dismissed her for the next few days to 'gather a clear head' she boiled a bright red. Storming out of the hospital she hailed a cabbie and fled to a bar. To Hell with them all! Sherlock didn't dare stop her in fact he tagged along and had a pint himself keeping a watchful eye on Molly. She went over each moment of the night from the smack to the head to the fact John Waston....John of all people....doubted her. She was fuming mad, pissed beyond repair, and at the same time so very disapointed. She wanted to cry and shake the people she thought were friends into some common sense. Maybe it was the alcohol talking she was already on her second pint while Sherlock barely finished his first. Molly had expected there be some disbelif but not to the point where no one believed her. John even said she had to be under some kind of stress to think a dead man attacked her. They checked his pluse...didn't help Molly removed his heart. Checked records of a twin none found....in fact many of his records were sealed due to adoption. But no know brothers exisited. No living family members in London. All possible possibilities were de-bunked. She felt like a fool for insisiting she saw what she saw again and again after being proved wrong. Was she paranoid?  
She didn't dare speak out loud...to scared to sound a fool again... and Sherlock didn't try to talk to her. The only commutations was between her and the barkeep serving her drinks as she ordered. Three drinks and two shots later she paid up her tab and hopped off the bar stool.  
"Ready to go home?" He asked handing her pack from off the floor. She looked almost ashamed but nodded and together he lead her out to where a sleek black car waited.  
Instructing the driver to take a disjointed route just in case they were being followed felt safer even if it took longer to get home. No way in hell he would lead someone directly to them both under such a viable state. By the time they reached her flat, Molly was almost asleep. She'd curled up towards the back seat passager door, her long pony tail hanging along the side of her face hiding most of it, her arms folded along her middle.  
"We're here Molly." He whispered and gently shook her.  
"Whoop-de-doo."   
He got out and walked around to her side of the car but she had already opened the door and started a ziggzagging pattern up to the sidewalk.  
Taking her arm he lead her to the stairs. "Feeling the alcohol now?"  
"Yup, it's kinda sinking in." Then she paused, looking towards her downstairs neighbor's window and waved. "Hya! Neighbor!" The curtain shut and Sherlock rolled his eyes.  
Molly Hooper had just enough time to kick off her shoes, shrug off her coat, and swing her pack off and in to the closet before Sherlock had the flat on lockdown and to his liking of safety. Before she could protest his embrace from behind his arms wrapped her into his chest. A staggered breath later and she was in tears uncontrollably. The only person in the whole world who had any idea what she was feeling was right in that room. He was the only one at Bart's who never doubted her or protest in agreement that she had seen things. No one believed her except him. They looked at her like she had lost her mind not him. A brilliant, talented, highly respected and honored pathologist of St. Bart's hospital had lost her marbles. But he didn't think so. It meant too much to Molly he kept his back straight and stood by her. She growl out and buried her head into the crest of Sherlock's arms, she was pissed yet again no one believed him either. Wouldn't they learn by now? Molly knew now what demons he had been fighting now. He gripped her tighter and softly rocked her. Maybe this is exactly what he needed during those two years he was away? Too late to think on that now. This was the present and at that moment he was holding her feeling the pain she felt.  
"I know." He soothed her then rest his chin upon her head. "What do you need?"  
Surprised by the ironic parallels she looked up shocked with tear filled eyes. His face melted with sympathy and his wiped her face clean of the hot tears with the sleeve of his Belstaff. He knew exactly what he had said, there was no irony there. Smiling she kissed his soft lips and he returned it tenderly.  
"You believe me." It was more a statement then a question but he answered anyways.  
"You believed in me and saw me when no one else did. So....Of course without a single doubt." He was so certain and straight forward. It was so strange thinking he could ever be so harsh and cruel to her in the past. Of course all of that was a defense she knew better now.   
Leaving his grasp she walked off in a daze nibbling on her finger , a nervous habit, all the way to the couch and flopped down. "Mike heard and said I should take a few days off. I know what I saw Sherlock. Even now a tad bit buzzed I am still positive of what who I saw. But the more I keep hearing people doubt me then more I wonder how true my story is. I know....." She sighed and ran a hand over her face. "I am so certain I could bet my life on it."  
"Don't say that." He snapped out making Molly realized he had moved to her side and she had not even noticed. "Don't even think it Molly." Sitting back he let his feet on her coffee table, his arm draped over the back off the couch. Looking over her shoulder she saw the Sherlock only few had seen. Him in complete raw and defenseless form. He was tired and drained. The alcohol had not loosen him up as it did her but she was seeing him as relaxed for the first time in forever. She hadn't even thought on how the news that she had been attacked at Bart's must of affected him. If it had been her she would have no showed so much controlled to their hidden relationship. Turning she leaned over to him and rest her head upon his chest holding him. He took the position in holding her again, neither knew that the other felt so protected with the other just like that in each other's arms. "Your life Molly Hooper is not to be gambled with." Looking down into her doe brown eyes he softly smirked and kissed her forehead. "Ever. Promise me."  
"Only if you swear to me the same." Molly said not even blinking in response. She became so brave with a few drinks in her. He chuckled and looked away at something so marvelous out the window.  
"I promise..."  
"No! Swear it!" She snapped.  
"What? Our my Promises not worthy?" He arched a brow.  
"Aboustuley not. Compulsive liar you are Mr. Holmes. Now swear it." She smiled and held her ground. Suddenly he wished she had a few more shots so she wouldn't be so clear headed. Had it been anyone else they might have been wounded by the insult but Sherlock knew it to be one hundred percent true and no denying that she knew him better.  
"I swear I will not gamble your life." A turn on word that Molly did not appeariate. Molly took a throw pillow and tossed it at him and stood heading to her room. Sherlock grasped her wrist then tugged her into his lap. She giggled a bit showing no ill will but waited upon his answer. "I swear I will not gamble my life."  
Satisfied she kissed him. What was a kissed turned hot quickly. Her hands found his locks and curls and she tugged playfully until he bared his neck. As she nibbled upon his nape, she had him turning tricking in his trousers. He muffled a moan as he bit his lip and bucked him hips. Readjusting in his lap she straddled his waist. His hands where instantly attracted to her round bum as she worked her hips in slow and teasing circles. When she parted from his neck he gripped a handful of her hair and held her back from going after the sensitive flesh again.  
"I do believe you owe me a promise Miss Hooper." His eyes danced with seriousness and an primeval animal like lust she had wanted for a much need release.  
"I promise you I will not gamble with my life, Mr. Holmes." The grip on her hair was loosen and felt the hand move to her neck. Leading to her to his lips she met them in a hungry rush and whispered in between kisses. "Please take me to the room."  
"My pleasure...are you fine to walk? Or shall I carry you?"  
"Carry please."  
The few quick steps and they were in the floral print soft pastel colored room that belonged to Molly Hooper. He placed her down and she began to sway just a little. He tipped her chin up and examined the place where she had been hit. Even in the dim light , he saw the darkening bruise that colored the side of her face and along her eye. He touched it with his thumb   
"I hate seeing you hurt."  
"We've been through worst."  
Her breath smelled of whiskey and her eyes looked dazed. Bending down he brushed his mouth over the bruise. She started to lean into him. Before they both got carried away Sherlock said, "Don't move. I will be right back." and he left for the living area to turn off the lights and shut down the flat for the night.  
Because he didn't trust she might not make it to bed without falling he left the door ajar while he rushed around the flat. Less than two minutes later he came back to find her curled on her side of her bed.  
Her pants tossed across the room and shirt thrown with little care on to a potted plant. She hadn't even bothered to get under the covers.  
His heart punches hard seeing her like that- deeply asleep wearing only black panties and an insubstantial pink tank top. Silky panties barely covered her, leaving much of her smooth hips and bottom on display. His hands curled with need to touch her, to stroke over her pale ivory skin.  
She had her long legs bent at the knee, one drawn up to expose her almost like an invitation. Visually he traced the rise of her shoulder, down the dip to her tiny waist then back up the curves of that round backside.  
Physically he wanted her so badly it hurt. His current tightness in his slacks proof. Because he had to touch her he slipped her hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. She felt baby soft and smelled so very womanly- an intoxicating mix.  
Slowly he opened the snap of his pants and slid the zipper past his erection. In just his boxers he slid back the covers and tucked her in sliding in with her. He would suffer through the everlasting boner he had and deal with it later. He would sleep with her, hold her, but not take advantage.  
In the morning they would have more demons to deal with and they most needed sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((more to come))

**Author's Note:**

> ((Inspired by the NEW movie AS BELOW SO ABOVE, with my own twist to it.))


End file.
